Tiger Territory
by nocturne tigress
Summary: Sequel to To Catch a Tiger. Life goes on, and the gang is at a complete loss on how to lead it...let alone how to lead others through it. Plz read TCT first! SodaOC/DallyOC-Rated T for...well, it's the Outsiders. What did you expect?
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back!! Erm…Flustered Vampire, you are **_**not **_**allowed to kill my fictional love interest…Anywayz, we're playing this one a little by ear, so…away we go? This still rotates around Dess' universe, because everyone else is someone else's character, and stealing is wrong. Kinda. When it's not chocolate. **

**DISCLAIM: I don't own them…sigh…**

**WARNING: This fic was written by an Aries and may contain:**

**Fish and poultry products**

**Some artificial sweeteners**

**The ability to kick flamer ass**

**And nuts. That is all. **

* * *

Chapter 1: Taste the Explosion

**3****rd ****Omniscient**

Darry and Elle pulled up to the house slowly. This district of the East side was peculiar in the fact that, when Tulsa was being formed, this was actually close to the center of town, therefore, the houses were large and elaborate.

As the city grew, however, the east side was developed, and this district became known as hood territory, even though is had some of the nicest houses in town, not to mention the oldest.

This particular house, as Darry had been informed by Elle, was owned by an older woman who had had a large family. It had been in the family for a few generations, which explained why she hadn't wanted to leave, but the death of her husband convinced her she needed not only a smaller house, but one in a safer neighborhood. She was selling the house for very cheap, only about eleven-thousand dollars. For Tulsa, that was great for a house of that size. At 20,000 square feet and four floors, it was a monster worthy of receiving the Curtis flock. Now if only they could convince the old lady to sell her house to a bunch of hoodlums. There was a reason they hadn't wanted the younger kids to come.

"Well, let's do it," Darry sighed, getting out of the car.

"Wait a sec," Elle requested over the top of the car. "Do you like it?"

Darry's eyes darted to the house behind his wife and back to her. "I think there are six kids in the family who really don't deserve it."

"Seven; you're forgetting Lola, who will probably move in."

"Actually, I was counting her. Lolly never did anything to me." They laughed. "And besides, this isn't just _your_ favorite, it's Dess and Lolly's, too. So I don't really have a say, do I?"

"No, not really. Let's get this over with."

They walked toward the house and Darry knocked on the door, grabbing Elle's hand in his own and trying very hard to look older, conservative, and very much a responsible man looking for a house for his family. Right. Like you haven't heard _that_ one before.

The woman who answered the door was at least a foot shorter than Darry, even though she held herself with a straight back. Her green eyes were bright in her weathered face, and her long white hair was managed and clean, pulled back in a ponytail. She was obviously someone who knew who she was and had seen a lot in her years.

"Hello." Her voice was authorative despite her age, and a little questioning. "Can I help you two?"

"Yes," Darry started, motioning back to the For Sale sign in the yard. "We saw that you have this house for sale, and we were wondering if it would be okay if we came in and talked to you about the price."

The woman broke into a wide smile and welcomed Darry and Elle in, suddenly considerably warmer than before.

"Of course! Please come in. My name is Rosemary Evans."

"I'm Darryl Curtis, and this is my wife, Elle."

"Oh, so you're from the Curtis clan!" Darry wasn't surprised Rosemary knew the name; his mother had been somewhat of a star for her cooking and social skills. This woman probably knew Darry from when he was in diapers. "I don't recall hearing you being married, dear."

"We just got married a few weeks ago," Elle put in. "The family is getting a little crowded, so we figured it would be best if we got a bigger house, and we've been admiring yours for months."

The cat was essentially out of the bag; if Rosemary knew who Darry was, she also knew about the large brood of troublemakers he toted around with him.

"How many? Is everyone still with you?" Her voice became soft and understanding, also a bit reluctant, like she knew she asking about something that could be a sensitive area.

Darry was struck by this woman's insight into his family and many other's tough life. She would not be surprised to hear of Johnny's death.

"Well, we're one smaller. I'm sure you heard about Johnny Cade," Darry told her, and she nodded. "And Steve Randall…no longer associates himself with us." She nodded again, as if she understood the situation without Darry telling her—she probably did. "But Keith Mathews' little sister and mine came back from out of state, so the house is just as full. Also, Elle here and her sister Lola have moved in…so we're pretty tight."

"I see you're in dire need of more space," Rosemary replied, a small, sympathizing grin on her face. "I raised ten children in this house, not to mention James and I. How many are in the family?"

Darry paused to think. Himself, Sodapop, Dessarea, Ponyboy, plus Two-Bit and Lolly, Elle, Lola and Dallas…

"Nine."

"It should be no problem for this old house, then. If you'll follow me, please." Rosemary led the way from the landing into a large living room and up a flight of stairs. "I have three floors above ground, and a basement, but you could hardly call that livable. You're in luck, because a few of my boys came by just last month and redid the roof—no leaks, and the heating is superb."

They came out in a large, open room with wood flooring. There was nothing up here, and the far wall was made entirely of glass—it was a sunroom of sorts. There were four doors set into the walls on the right and left, as the stairwell was also set into another wall, an outer one.

"There are three bedrooms here," Rosemary told them. "That far one is the rotunda, there's another room on it above us."

Darry had noted the round column on one corner of the house from the outside—this was the rotunda room, which Dess was crazy about. It would be round inside like it was on the outside.

"Also, a bathroom there," the old woman added, pointing to a powder blue door. She led her two guests across the room, where another flight of stairs waited. "We can't go up today; there's a loose stair I'd rather not chance that the boys are fixing this evening. But there are three more rooms upstairs and another bathroom. It's the same as this floor, actually."

She led them back downstairs, treated them to a tour of the kitchen, dining room, living room, and master bedroom.

"Seven bedrooms, three baths, and enough room to host a party of elephants," Rosemary told them, back in the living room. "I think that will suit your needs just fine, until the group begins to move out."

"That…sounds wonderful," Elle said, grabbing Darry's hand.

"What are you selling it for?"

"I'll sell for twenty-thousand."

"Hmm…I think we could do that with a tiny loan," Darry murmured, sitting back on the couch and staring into space.

Rosemary smiled warmly. "I'm glad my home will be of some use to someone. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis."

"Thank you, Mrs. Evans."

**Lolly**

"Two-Bit, no."

"Just once?"

"No."

"It'll be so much fun…I'll clean it up, I swear!"

"If you do, I'll kill you. I'll kill you dead."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Push that button and see if I don't have your ass on a plate…I said…TWO-BIT!"

_Whir._

For the second time in as many months, I stood in the kitchen, covered in milkshakey goo. However, the distinct difference was that this kitchen was big enough for the whole gang to sleep in…and possibly play football.

"You have four seconds," I growled, wiping shake out of my eyes. My older brother giggled like a maniac and ran out of the room. I ran after him, leaving a kitchen partially covered in milkshake for someone else. Hopefully Darry; because then he'd come and help me beat Two-Bit's head in.

I tackled him on the stairway, which probably wasn't the smartest thing ever, and proceeded to strangle him.

"_I…said…NO!_"

"Whoa, Lolly, easy there on the buddy." Soda emerged from picking out our room upstairs and tapped me on the shoulder. Prosper, Dessarea's cat, wrapped his tail around himself and sat down on the stair one up from me. "What'd you do this time, Bit?"

"I made a milkshake explode!" Two-Bit giggled, sounding perversely proud of himself.

Soda groaned. "Dammit Two-Bit, again? And in the new house, too…by the way, Lolly, our room is on the first floor, the door with the glass knob." He went off to survey the damage, at which point Dess and Dally came down the stairs. They were holding hands—and I looked again…and they were still holding hands. Son of a gun.

"What happened to you two?" I asked, still crushing Two-Bit's lower chest area.

"What?" Dess asked.

"You're glowing. And holding hands with it."

Dess looked down at her own hand.

"I dunno. I'm just glad to be in a new house, is all."

"Oh." Good.

"Lolly, do you still hate me?" Dally asked, sounding like he wished with all his heart for the answer to be no. Too bad.

"Yes."

He sighed. "I thought so." They continued down the stairs.

Two-Bit, previously forgotten, shifted. "Lolly…if you wouldn't mind getting off me…?"

I settled into a more comfortable position below his ribcage. "Why?" I teased. His gray eyes darkened.

"Because you're too heavy to wrestle anymore. I can't breathe, now get off."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"I'm not calling you skinny."

I frowned, even though I knew he was teasing. "Oh, your ass is as good as mine."

"Actually, I'd have to say it's better."

I drew back. I knew Two-Bit was good, but… "Okay, you win this round. I have to go see our new room." I got off of him and pushed him down a few of the stairs with the ball of my foot as I ascended the staircase.

As I went I heard Darry's distinct voice. It was yelling, and it was yelling at my brother. Revenge…had never been so sweet.

I stepped into the room Soda had picked out for us. It did indeed have a glass doorknob, and inside, there was thick, cream-colored carpet. The bed from Soda's room had been moved in here, as well as his dresser, and my smaller one from Two-Bit, mine, and mom's house. Mom had pretty much accepted the fact that we were living with the Curtises, since Soda and I were engaged, so all, not just some, of my clothes were divided between my dresser and the closet.

The bay window overlooking the backyard was a nice touch; I assumed Soda had chosen this room for that reason. I lay down on the bed. Today had been stressful.

We moved in yesterday, and today had been split between unpacking and hitting the department store in groups to check out stuff we wanted/needed. Amazingly enough, the previous owner, Rosemary Evans, left everything in the kitchen and dining room, which meant we had just acquired a large oak table and a china cabinet, not to mention a new set of china and silverware.

The only thing we lacked was…well…everything. A new couch, table, TV, stuff to furnish the rooms…it's not that we didn't have things, we just needed _newer_ stuff, and more of it.

Luckily, the house was largely painted in solid colors, nothing abhorrently fancy that we'd have to take down. But still. We needed new stuff.

It was late August, and still stubbornly warm; we'd gone down to the swimming hole for the last time just a few days ago and had a hell of a party. Half of Sheppard's gang—the decent half—showed up to party with us.

Now it was five or six, but I hadn't slept well recently, or rather hadn't had a chance to. We'd been too busy…and honestly, who needs sleep? However, as I lay curled up in Soda and me's bed, in a patch of sunlight, I felt myself slip off into unconsciousness.

**Dess**

"To the bedroom!" That was the general cry. Now that the whole gang was back from the stores and we were all in one place, we went to go unpack personally. Lolly, who was sleeping, was about to be rudely awaken, but I had bigger fish to fry. That could be saved for Halloween.

I raced to our bedroom, Dally in tow. I pulled a skeleton key on a piece of ribbon out of my pocket and inserted it into the lock below the rotunda room door's knob. It turned like clockwork. It was so weird to have a key…and yet, it opened so many doors…oh, that was a bad one. I didn't mean it…

Anyway, I opened the door and exhaled—I was happy. The room was octagonal and had a window overlooking the corner of the backyard. It had hardwood floors, and the walls, while painted a soft blue, were bare. All that was there was my bed and dresser. Dally's stuff, what little he had, lived in the bottom drawer of the five-drawered dresser, all except for two boxes of smaller stuff that had to be unpacked now.

I opened the first as Dally rummaged through the second. Pulling out a familiar frame, I searched for a nail in the wall. It was the old angel I drew when we first got home, the one Lolly had had inked for me. I figured it was about time for it to have a place in the world.

While I searched for a nail, Dally pulled out what he'd been looking for—a bottle of cologne that could fit in the palm of my hand. I froze when the oh-so-familiar scent drifted to me. He saw it and grinned.

"Oh yes…it's _the_ cologne."

"What's it called?" The actual name of the cologne he wore had been kept a careful secret from me for months—he kept it somewhere in the depths of the medicine cabinet until now.

He held the bottle out to me and I took it…and was severely disappointed.

The name had been worn off with time, all except for a few traces of silver paint here and there. Dally chuckled.

"You didn't honestly think I'd tell you, did you?" he asked.

"Not really," I replied sullenly, popping the cap off and sniffing it. "Oh my God…it smells like…you, concentrated." He laughed aloud and I shook it a little—there was very little left inside. "You better tell me soon; it looks like you're running out. I can buy you some more for your birthday."

"You know, I only started wearing that maybe two months before you came home? I don't even remember where I got it, but you seem to like it well enough."

"Actually, it's more like it reminds me of _you_ so I like it. But it does smell good, though."

I crossed the room and set the bottle on top of the dresser. From what little liquid there was inside, I could tell it wasn't that fancy, sweet-smelling, dyed stuff the Socs wore. It was clear, and the scent was unlike any other I'd ever smelled.

"Do they even still carry it?" I asked. The idea of him having to get a new scent…disturbed me, for some reason.

"Yeah. Don't worry your pretty head." He continued unpacking a few pictures in frames, my sketchbook, and the bulk of the materials inside, my books. "You have so many of them," he murmured almost wistfully. I paused beside him, unpacking a glass angel mom had given me for my eleventh birthday.

"Does that bother you?" I asked, puzzled as to why it would.

"No." A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I'm glad you do. You can teach the kids to read."

"It's not like you can't," I replied, slightly shocked over the fact that he had accepted that I was getting kids one way or another.

"Not really. I can't read very well. I can…just slowly, and not very well."

"I didn't know that…" I murmured. For some reason, this made me very, very sad.

"There was never a reason for you to." He looked at me and grinned. "Don't worry about it. I don't care either way. Where do you want this?" He held up a photo, and I shook off my previous concern for another time.

It was a really old one. Me, Dally and Soda were wrestling on the floor. We couldn't have been more than six or seven, so it was before Lolly came. Mom had taken it without my knowing. I kept it close when I was in Nebraska, and I kept it closer when me and Dal got together.

"On the nightstand," I requested, and he placed it there gently. "We need to take some recent ones," I murmured absently.

Dally frowned. "I hate cameras."

"Why? You take a picture really good…"

Case in point, the one I held in my hands. More recent; I figured Dally was thirteen or fourteen. He was alone, smoking a cigarette on the porch and watching something in the distance, and there were traces of what he looked like now in his face. He did take a great picture, and Mom was a great photographer. Together, a recipe for disaster.

"When did you get a hold of this?" he asked me, taking it from me to look at it closer.

"Pony sent me pictures of everybody when I first went away. To help me remember." I pawed at the photograph. "Can I have that back? I'm rather fond of it."

He grinned and handed it back. "Sure. I'll take a picture for you anytime. Just find a camera."

I smiled and glanced out the window. It was getting dark, with the first stars in the sky. I put my hands on Dally's, drawing them out of the box and stilling them.

"Let's go to bed," I suggested. "We can do the rest of this tomorrow."

He smiled softly and slowly. "Okay."

I changed quickly while he excused himself to do…something. He was good about that, letting me change by myself. Then he came back in, slipped off his shirt, and lay down beside me, reaching across me to turn out the lights.

"G'night, Dess. I love you."

I turned to him and brushed my fingers down his arm, breathing in his mystery cologne and watching my engagement ring shine as it caught the moon's light.

"Love you, too, Dally."

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**Well, hi! This chapter really had very little point…so whatev. It's good to be back! A tornado recently **_**struck my house**_**, so my server has been down for a while, which is why it took me longer than expected to post. Anyone wanna hear anything go into this, don't be afraid to shout. There's not much planned for it, so I have room for anything! And BTW, do you or do you not like the new house? Luv everybody!**

**deh Tigress **


	2. Family Dog

**Here we go again…the gang has to go carpet shopping. Hehe…and a tiny surprise at deh end.**

**DISCLAIM: If I owned them, there'd be a lot more scenes with Dally in them. I only own Dess. And Gracie. 0.o Lolly belongs to deh Flustered Vampire. wave at dem, Flustered! **

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Chapter 2: Family Dog

**Lolly**

"Oops."

"Lolly! Why did you do that?!"

I looked up, the picture of innocence, the can of wood finish in my hands still dripping onto the carpet.

"I'm so sorry, Soda!" I exclaimed, dropping to my knees to examine the stain that we both knew was permanent.

He looked at me for a long moment, using a rag idly to wipe his darkened fingers. "Bullshit you are," he replied, grinning. "You never did like this carpet."

"Not really…" I returned his smile and winked. "It's sticky! I don't like it!"

Soda stuck his foot deliberately into the carpet and pretended to have to wrench it out. "I like it."

I rolled my eyes. "You would."

He sighed and turned to the door. "Darry! Lolly spilled the finish!"

There was a long pause, followed by the sound of thumping feet and this: "I told you guys when I gave it to you to be careful! That crap don't come out of carpet!" Darry, in all his aged wonder, appeared in the door. His jaw dropped at the size of the stain, which was easily the size of a cantaloupe and growing. "Glory Hallelujah! How much did you spill?!"

I showed him the empty can sheepishly. I did feel bad about ruining the carpet, but I didn't like it. With any luck, we would go shopping for something new, or maybe even have to put in wood like the kind I so envied in Dess's room. I wouldn't object to that.

Darry stormed out, muttering something about carpet shopping this week, and Soda grinned.

"Wow. Just…wow. If I'd done that, he woulda beaten me within an inch of my life, waited three to five months, and then done it again."

I gave him a sweet smile, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Well…that's one of the perks of being an in-law."

"I'm an in-law in your family and have yet to see the perks," he deadpanned back.

Just then, Two-Bit ran through the floor, chasing Lola, only to be rejected when she reached the bathroom and threw the door shut. He hit it so hard the wall shook, and he came away clutching his forehead and cursing.

"You did that on purpose, you smartass!" Lola's muffled voice came, shrieking with laughter.

"No shit I did! I just didn't think I'd hit it so hard!" My brother stumbled away, only to trip over something or another.

I rolled my eyes. "Sure you have. Free comedy."

"I wanted to talk to you." Apparently, the carpet stain could wait, or was a lost cause, because he sat down in the middle of the room, facing the large bay window—all the rooms on 

this floor were essentially the same, which I thought was so cool. It was the décor that made them different…not that you could really tell right now.

He motioned over to me, and I sat down in his lap, grinning as he slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder.

"About the wedding. I know you wanna make it big and fancy and plan everything."

"Yeah…"

"And you'll get it. But first, I need to know one thing."

"Okay…" What could it possibly be?

"You wanna dog?"

I about laughed my head off. I let out a relieved sigh.

"Wow. I though it was gonna be much more serious." But I put some thought into it. I knew Soda had always wanted a dog, and in our old neighborhood, it would've been great security, but on the downside, we'd had no room and no money. However, here, we could still use one, and we had the money _and_ the space.

"You want me to help you convince Darry to let us buy one, huh?" I guessed.

He laughed, not at all concerned that I saw right through his charade. "Yup."

"Well…there's one big problem. Dess."

The smile slowly faded to a look of confusion. "What? She's not allergic, is she? Or…afraid of them?"

"No. It's more her cat than her."

Right on cue, Prosper, the pretty silver tabby that Dally had…somehow acquired for Dess for her last birthday, strutted in.

"Meow?" he inquired, sniffing the carpet stain in disdain. I shuffled my fingers gently against the carpet, and he, being a cat, pounced almost immediately. I grabbed him up and put him in my lap, where he stilled and began to purr. He was almost three times as big as he had been when we got him; well on his way to becoming a cat instead of a kitten.

"He's a lover," I argued amiably. "He'll take to a new dog, just wait."

"I'll take your word for it," Soda replied, scooting me off his lap. "Let's go get some more people on our side before we try anything."

We walked off, leaving the satin to ruminate on the carpet, in search of manpower for our petition.

**Dess**

Well, you wouldn't know it…but we really _don't_ aim to destroy everything we touch as we go through it. But you know, walking all of us into a department store at 10:30 in the morning and telling us to split up in search of various items is asking for trouble. It just is. I'm sorry.

I honestly wish I had a reason for why all of us went, since really we were just looking for a replacement carpet for Lolly's room, and a cheap couch-and-chair set for the living room. Usually it wouldn't take nine people to pick that stuff out…but since we're just crazy about _consistency_, we go everywhere together, even though the likelihood of being jumped anymore is…nonexistent.

The friction was slowly going down as our generation got older. It was a crying shame, but the glory days were starting to end. 1967, and the times were changing. For example, we could walk into a department store without being called hoods. A definite improvement, if you ask me.

So in we walked. Me and Lolly and the two boys went in search of carpet, and Two-Bit, Lola, and Ponyboy all went in search of more carpet. Elle and Darry, the only two remotely mature enough people in the party, were looking for furniture that could both fill our glaringly bare living room and leave a sizeable amount in the budget. New carpet would cost so much it kind of had me seeing stars, but I had a feeling Lolly had something up her sleeve that was gonna make it okay. Like, a million dollars.

Walking down the first aisle, we were pretty much looking for anything that caught our fancy. A lot of things did.

"Lookit, Lolly, this one's got patterns _in _the carpet…like they stamped it on or something." Soda was transfixed by a large roll of wine-scarlet carpet, pressed with a diamond design.

Lolly made a face. "You idiot, our walls would clash so bad I couldn't stand to go in there." That was true—the walls were an emerald green.

Soda stuck his tongue out and lowered is age and IQ by about seven years and a hundred points. "Wasn't sayin' we need it, I was sayin' it's pretty."

Dally scoffed and checked Soda on the shoulder as he pressed past. "Pretty, Curtis?" He shot him a mocking grin. "Really?"

Soda pounded him between the shoulder blades in response, but judging by the light thump as opposed to a loud _thud_, I think he could've hit him a lot harder. Then there was silence, and as soon as I got a few yards down the aisle, pure cold fear of what the three I'd left behind could be doing turned me around.

They stood smack in the middle of the aisle, looking up at the rolls of carpet, suspended on their huge racks.

"That is perfect," Lolly murmured, transfixed by a cloudy, navy blue flooring with different smudges of lighter and darker blues. It was pretty, but it was at the top of the rack.

A clerk, who had appeared out of nowhere, scowled and murmured something about going to find a ladder. I didn't know how a ladder could possibly help; the roll we wanted was at the top, at least twenty feet in the air. I'd like to see the ladder that could get that.

"We can get it," Soda muttered, turning ever so slightly so that he could see Dally's face and the topmost rack. "We could. I'm sure it could hold you."

"I'm not worried about me," Dally replied, eyeing the rack at about waist height. His light eyes were sparkling. "I'm lightest. But it wouldn't be any fun if both of us didn't get in trouble. Sit on one." They shot each other identical devilish grins and returned to observing the phenomenon that was the carpet rack. Soda climbed onto the lowest and sat on it, testing his weight.

"You know, I think this could work."

"Oh God no," Lolly mused. "That is so stupid."

I however, was transfixed by the genius of the idea and wondered why I hadn't seen it sooner. "Ten bucks says my man makes it to the top before yours does," I betted her, in the same distracted voice the boys were using.

"Let's do it. C'mon, for the ladies." Soda elbowed Dally in the ribs, then motioned to the rack.

"Yeah man. Let's do it."

Lolly snorted. "Yours is shinier. He wouldn't even make it to the top before a clerk spotted him." There was a long pause, in which the boys seemed to wait for some cue, some 

goad, as if they were on the edge of shooting up the spinning rack and all they needed was maybe a chuckle of encouragement.

"I can't believe they really mean to do it," I finally said after a long while.

"I can't believe we're not stopping them," Lolly replied.

"You know, I really don't care at this point." I drew a breath, about to shout "Do it!" but was interrupted by…

"DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!"

Like it was a trigger, the two boys shot onto the lowest roll, laughing and shouting. All hell broke loose as Two-Bit skidded down the aisle with a…a lampshade?! on his head, wielding a broom like a sword and running backwards away from Lola, also brandishing a broomstick, and me and Lolly burst into frantic laughter at the combination of the bizarre sight of Soda and Dally scrambling on the rolls of carpet and the drama unfolding before us.

Two-Bit struck a pose that he must have thought was a portrait of gallantry or _something_, because he said in a deep, staged voice with a thick and badly done British accent, "Thoust hast slaneth me. Eth."

Lola, already doubled over in laughter, practically fell over on the floor. "What the helleth does that mean? Eth?"

"You know, Ieth really have no idea."

In Two-Bit's moment of confusion, Lola lunged and swatted his broom-sword away with her own, and poked him in the back of the knee. He fell to his knees, kneeling in "agony".

"Ah! I have been slain!" He died a tragic and really obnoxiously drawn out death on the floor of the store, and Lolly and I added to his last words the missing "Eth."

At this time, several things happened. One, Lola lost all composure and started laughing so hard it bordered hysteria and fell to her knees as well. Two, Dally fell off the carpet rack from several rolls high—they were a bit bigger around than the boys had previously anticipated. He hit the ground on his back with a painful-sounding _ooohhf!_ and lay there for a moment, groaning. Three, Soda leapt off his roll and landed catlike at Dally's feet, examining the damage from afar in case Dally felt the sudden and unlikely urge to stand and beat the hell out of him.

And four, none other than Darry and Elle walked into the aisle, obviously searching for the commotion. Lolly and I, still laughing hard enough to give Lola a run for her money, tried to compose ourselves, but failed miserably, and ended up leaning against the nearest roll of carpet.

Darry surveyed the scene somberly, took it all in. There was Two-Bit, laying spread-eagle on the hard concrete, a lampshade obscuring most of his face, and a broom a few inches from his dramatically outstretched hand. Beside him was Lola, who was now simply breathing heavily and using her own broom for support. To their upper left, Dally was rolling off the ground slowly and cursing up at the inanimate floor coverings, looking very much like he was still seeing stars. Behind him, Soda chuckled a little and nudged him, pointing at Darry and waving. Dally closed his eyes and fought a smile.

Two-Bit chose this oddly silent time to wake up. He saw Darry and froze.

It looked a lot like Darry was trying really hard to be the tough, big-brotherly leader. He was scowling and had his arms crossed over his chest, his feet planted apart. But he was just too young. The hilarity of this scene hit him too and he began to laugh, softly at first, but then he grew louder, and Elle joined him.

They walked right into the middle of all of us and were still laughing. Between gasps, Darry managed to choke out, "Did you find any carpet?"

**Soda**

"I can't believe you all did that," Darry fumed, fighting a smile but failing horribly. We were walking home after deciding that it was time to beat it before a clerk came and found the busted lampshade and obviously misused brooms, or dragged the full story about the bruise on Dally's chin out of one of us.

"Yeah, well, I can," Dally grumbled darkly, rubbing the spot on this chin where he'd hit the ground.

"Chivalry. We gots it," I crowed. I hip-checked Lolly and shot her a broad grin when she smiled, and did a front flip for good measure. Today, I was walking on air. Almost everyone was with me on getting a dog, so I figured we could slip away and pick up one of the ones I'd had in mind—there was a crisp twenty in my pocket, and it wasn't for buying new carpet.

--

Me and Lolly, as well as Dess and Dally, who were going with us in case we needed help with a strong-willed dog, excused ourselves down to the Dingo to grab a bite to eat, and probably just hang around. Pony looked a little disappointed—I realized all too late what an impact all this was having on Pony. He was becoming more and more just the background kid. We'd have to change that.

The dogs were in a box. A cardboard box, like a TV box, and the flaps were torn off—chewed off, by the looks of it. I'd seen it on the way to work a while back, and I couldn't believe what I saw up-close.

The pups were German Shepherds, and from what I could tell, they were about as pure as you could get around here. And they were free. Scrawled on the box were the words, "Free puppies. Just take one."

"The owner didn't want them," Lolly murmured, dropping to her knees to examine the pups. It was true—they were all so skinny, their skin was sucked into their ribs, and they were tiny. They couldn't be more than a few weeks old, at the most.

"We've got to take at least one," Dess sympathized. "Pick one, Soda."

I knelt with the girls, while Dally kept his distance watching the street and the sidewalks, as though someone was going to come up and kill us all. Oh well. Old habits died hard. I didn't really like turning back to the road, and we weren't even that far from home.

I debated the way to pick one. They were all similar, all six, and there was really no way to pick the best from the group. Oh wait. There was one.

I plunged my face into the box. Lolly gasped.

"Sodapop! Are you crazy, they're Shepherds! They'll bite your nose off!"

A puppy, a little larger than the rest, stumbled up and pushed his muzzle against my cheek, and then licked my nose. I picked him up.

"This is the one, guys. We can go home now."

"How did you all of a sudden decide that?" Lolly asked, looking a little credulous.

"I stuck my head in and he licked me," I replied, shooting her a matter-of-fact grin. I held the puppy out to her, dangling him from his armpits. "Try."

She grabbed the little German and it snuggled into her chest. "Awww," she smiled.

I took the dog back and zipped him up inside my jacket. It wasn't too cold, just a little brisk, and I felt bad about leaving the other thin-coated puppies out in weather that would, in a few weeks, become cold and rainy. Now…we just had to see if Darry would let me keep him.

**Dess**

I gotta hand it to Soda, just going out, picking up a dog off the street, and taking him home to Darry took guts. So here we were, standing in the kitchen, with about half the gang crossing their fingers behind their backs and the other half ready to jump in front of Soda if Darry charged. Well, except for Darry, who was sitting at the kitchen table. Earlier, he'd been paying bills. Now he was looking down at a month-old German Shepherd who was very interested in the cuffs of his jeans.

"Soda," he started, looking like he was about to crush some dreams.

"Darry, listen. Look how many of us want him. All in favor, raise your hand."

Lolly, Lola, Elle, Two-Bit, Soda, Pony, and me all raised our hands. I stepped down on Dally's instep until he did, too.

"Overruled," Lola piped brightly. "We win."

"You kids seem to forget that this is a Darrylocracy. What I say goes."

"But Darry—" Soda started. He was cut off.

"No."

"Can we at least keep him here till I can find a shelter for him? I don't wanna take him back to that box." Soda's voice rang with distaste.

Darry contemplated for a spilt second.

"Fine. You have a week. Just one, that's it."

A silence stretched, during which Soda calculated how much he could push his luck before Darry threw the poor thing into a river.

"Okay," he said softly, not making eye contact. He walked out, and I followed him. I felt like he had a plan. Elle and Lolly came, too, and the rest of the gang dispersed. "Here's the plan, guys. We gotta hit him with something big. We have a week. Any ideas?"

We all thought for a moment, but we couldn't come up with anything.

"We're just gonna have to nag him until he finally gives in," Lolly muttered desolately.

"Well, what are we gonna have to do for him to let it stay?" I asked. "Maybe if we can prove that we can do it, he'll let us keep it."

Elle shook her head in faint amusement. "Ya'll are eighteen years old, and here you are, tryin' to find ways to keep a puppy like you're ten or eleven."

"Yeah," Soda replied distractedly. "That's us, nostalgic. Well, he'll need to have his shots, be fixed, be house trained, get along with Prop…"

There was a short pause, and Elle picked up where he left off softly, her eyes not leaving the ground. "And he'll have to be good with kids."

"That's about—wait, what?!" Soda registered what had been said, and then looked at Elle's flat stomach as if it would swell before his eyes if he looked at it long enough.

Elle laughed softly. "Yeah, I found out yesterday."

I felt myself rise in a way that only a baby could make you rise.

"Have you told Darry?" Lolly asked, her eyes shining.

Elle shook her head, a little sadly. "I heard him muttering something this morning, after he came out from you and Soda's room. I'm kinda stared to tell him now.

"He said, 'great, now all we need to make this a complete madhouse is a baby'."

Shell-shocked silence followed. Even Soda looked a little shaken. "He…he didn't mean it that way, Elle," he told her hollowly, but I could tell he was trying to convince himself of that, too.

"Don't worry, hon." I slung an arm across Elle's shoulder and hugged her. "You'll be just fine. He'll be so happy when you tell him…" I let myself trail off, wishing I could make it sound more convincing.

* * *

**Hai. Well, it's been a while, and I honestly am sorry. I have a bit of trouble writing parody-type humor, so I had to think really hard about it, and other than that, I'm a little stuck on this story. Flustered helped me with a plot, dincha, Flustered? We'll see if that helps. So. o.O Will Darry be happy, or will he be mad? Will puppy stay? Will Lolly ever get carpet?! Find out in next chapta, to be called, "Gracie". **

**Luffs from Deh Tigress **


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